


dad, i know you're trying to fight when you feel like flying

by Spannah339



Series: Sun and Moon AU [12]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Edmund is a Less Good Dad, Found Family, Gen, Quirin is a good dad, Team Awesome (Disney: Tangled), like... a Lot Less, someone give quirin a nap, sun and moon au, tired dad quirin, watch us yoink the name ulla from 7k and NOTHING ELSE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spannah339/pseuds/Spannah339
Summary: it's Quirin appreciation hours in this house.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Quirin, Quirin & Varian (Disney)
Series: Sun and Moon AU [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823434
Comments: 10
Kudos: 123





	dad, i know you're trying to fight when you feel like flying

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I know this isn't the fic that people are waiting for it's COMING I PROMISE it's just fighting me a little. And also we got SIDE TRACKED by Dad feels so here.

They were good for each other. 

Quirin could see that when he had first let Varian go, hand in hand with the young prince. They were good for each other. 

Horace - Eugene now, Quirin had to remind himself, the boy was going exclusively by his middle name - had grown up a lot in the past three years. When he had left, the boy had just been that - a boy, lost in his imagination, caught up by sword fights and book stories and dreams of adventure. 

He still dreamed - Quirin was glad to see that - but his dreams were quieter. His imagination more hidden. His books smuggled into quiet corners and hidden nooks. He was beginning to become a young man, intelligent, smart, loyal, brave. 

Lonely. 

Varian adored him, that much was clear after their first day home again. Quirin was tired, troubled after his long conversation with King Edmund, concerned for the future, for his son. But Varian crawled onto his lap as he sat in the room that used to be so full of life before they had left. Two tiny hands on either side of his cheeks and a serious, small face staring into his. 

“Do you know Flynn Rider?” he asked, as though it were the most important question in the world. 

“I can’t say I do,” Quirin responded, gently taking his son’s hands in his. “Do you?” 

Varian nodded, slipping off Quirin’s lap and waving an imaginary sword in the air. 

“‘gene told all about him!” he said. “He’s a hero!” 

Quirin smiled, allowing himself to relax a little as he watched his son prance around, eyes shining with excitement, the fear of the unfamiliar place all but gone. 

~*~

“Quirin?” Eugene’s face was surprisingly serious as he ran briskly through the halls to catch up to Quirin. The man turned to face him, raising his eyebrows in question. “Do you know anything about knife throwing?” 

It wasn’t the question that he had been expecting. Quirin frowned slightly, somewhat bemused by the boy (young man now, he was nearly 16). 

“Knife throwing?” he asked. Eugene nodded, the seriousness of a fifteen-year-old boy etched on his face. 

“I thought it would be useful. I asked Hector to teach me, but he didn’t want to. And Dad - Dad’s... busy.” He glanced down at the last, a hint of the lonely young boy Quirin had first seen when he had returned to the Dark Kingdom seeping through. 

He hesitated - but only for a moment. 

“I can give you some pointers,” he said, and Eugene looked up with a grin. “Give me an hour to finish up, then I’ll come find you.” 

“Thanks!” Eugene cried and the smile that split his face was more than worth it. 

(Varian insisted he wanted to try as well. Eugene convinced him to start with stones, a compromise Quirin wasn’t sure how he felt about.) 

~*~

“He’s a child,” Quirin said, head bowed, heart thumping rapidly. King Edmund stood in front of him, tapping the fingers of his hand against his leg. 

“We need to know what he’s capable of,” the king said. Quirin glanced briefly towards the door - towards the moon opal. Varian heard its call - he knew. 

“He is my son. I won’t agree to anything that will hurt him,” Quirin said, trying, grasping at straws, knowing he was fighting an already lost battle. 

“Perhaps he should have thought of that before using the opal for his own gain,” the king muttered, not seeming to realize he had spoken aloud. Quirin lowered his head again, closing his eyes. 

Sometimes, when he was watching Varian speak at a thousand words per minute, spilling out ideas and theories Quirin didn’t even begin to understand, when he watched Varian and Eugene curl up and read together, when he saw the boy his son was growing into, he didn’t regret that choice he had made. 

Sometimes, like now, when he was bowing before his king, waiting for a ruling to be made, when he was missing Ulla with all his heart, when Varian whispered things that scared him, he did regret. 

Perhaps it would have been better to let nature take its course, to not try and mess with destiny. Perhaps Varian would have survived anyway, would have grown up  _ normal _ and Quirin wouldn’t have to be here. 

But the king was right - they did need to know what Varian was capable of. They needed to understand, to help him learn his limits in a controlled situation. To train him where he was safe so he wouldn’t hurt himself or anyone else. 

So Quirin bowed his head and pushed back the insistent voice that told him this was  _ wrong _ . 

“Do as you will, your majesty.” 

He woke, a few weeks later, sensing something was wrong. Softly, he slipped out of his bed to check on Varian, only to find the boy gone. The training had been intense that day, and Varian had collapsed into bed without a sound - Quirin hadn’t expected him to move for a long time. 

He found Varian easily enough. He pushed the door to Eugene’s room open a crack, peering in enough to see the two boys, curled up together, Varian pressed into Eugene’s chest, Eugene’s hand on his back. 

For a moment, a memory came back to Quirin. Varian, three years old, pressed up close to him as they lay together in the too empty double bed. 

Quirin returned to his own room, to his once again too empty double bed, wondering where he had gone so wrong and knowing deep in his heart the exact moment. 

~*~

They had left. 

Quirin stood in Varian’s room, running his hand over the abandoned Flynn Rider book that lay on his son’s bed. 

The whole castle was an uproar - the crown prince had vanished, as well as the Moon Child. Edmund was convinced they would grow bored of the outside world, realize they couldn’t care for themselves, come home again soon. 

Quirin knew they wouldn’t. 

Part of him was glad. Glad that the two boys were together, that they were away, that they could grow together and learn who they were away from the Dark Kingdom’s influence. 

Most of him was broken. He had lost his son (he had forfeited his son). They had left in the night, slipping away without so much as a goodbye. Quirin didn’t know what to do except sit on Varian’s bed and hold the book close. 

“Look after him,” he whispered quietly. “Look after each other.” 

~*~

Hector left to find them. Quirin wasn’t sure what he hoped for - did he want the boys to return? Or did he want Hector to fail, to give them the chance to  _ live _ ? He didn’t know what he wanted. 

Quirin stayed. His heart longed to follow the boys, to follow his son, to make sure they were safe. But Quirin stayed, stayed to keep the crumbling kingdom together, to keep a maddening king as sane as possible. 

Quirin stayed. 

~*~

The ground was uneven as Quirin scrambled over the rocks, scanning the surrounding area for them. They were  _ here _ , they were _ home _ . 

“Dad!” 

A figure slammed into him, larger than he remembered, cold hands wrapping him tightly and Quirin dropped to his knees. Varian buried his face in his shoulder, his body shaking as he clung to Quirin. 

“Varian,” he whispered, burying his hand in his son’s hair, holding him close, holding him tightly as though he would vanish again if Quirin let go. 

Eugene stood nearby, a lopsided, bittersweet grin on his face. Quirin didn’t need to think as he reached out a hand and pulled Eugene into the embrace. 

They were here. They were home. They were safe.  _ His boys _ . He held them and refused to let go and felt more whole than he had for years. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. And that was all that needed to be said. 

**Author's Note:**

> (hehe sneak peek to Future Plans)


End file.
